


breathing is a party (and parties are for losers)

by bathroom_mirror



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Minecraft: Story Mode (Fandom), Minecraft: Story Mode - Fandom
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Mental Illness, Modern AU, Slice of Life, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bathroom_mirror/pseuds/bathroom_mirror
Summary: Jesse: listen ive had a string of really bad nights okay leave me aloneLukas, the concerned friend trying his best: no
Relationships: Aiden/Jesse (Minecraft), Jesse & Lukas (Minecraft), Jesse/Aiden (Minecraft)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	breathing is a party (and parties are for losers)

**Author's Note:**

> dont expect any of this to make sense ok FEELINGS dont make sense. also it's 5am and i havent slept. also also please dont follow the example of either jesse or lukas ok theyre not role models and they shouldnt be, theyre just two messed up people goin thru a messed up time okok thxx

There is no start.

His memory is foggy at best. Did Jesse get a doctor before or after her first suicide attempt? He couldn't be bothered to remember anymore. When did she start opening up about her illness? God knows, he certainly didn't. She's been like this everyday that it's now just her default mode.

It's annoying.

“I thought Aiden was bad at minding his own business, but jesus christ, Lukas. I said **_leave me alone_ **.”

 _She's_ _annoying_.

It's not her fault. It's not her fault she was born with it. But _god_ if it didn't infuriate him how stubborn she was about not helping herself.

“I’m not leaving you alone when you’ve got _a switchblade_ and _an unstable mindset_ everyday right in your room!”

She rolls her eyes, “Lukas, I have an unstable mindset everyday even outside my room! I’m a fucking grownup! Just because we live in the same house doesn’t mean you get to fucking boss me around.”

“Jesse, I’m not bossing you around, _you’re sick_ -”

“I’m sick everyday, asshole!" Jesse waves her arms around, "Everybody around you in this fucking house is fucking sick! You are literally the only person here who is NOT sick!!”

“Yeah, and who just recently tried to jump out of their room!?”

For a second, she's taken aback. She's blinking at him, her mouth fallen open, and tears stream from her blurry eyes to her cheeks. Then her teeth are grinding and she's yelling, turning away from him, screaming, “This is **exactly** what I was afraid of, dammit!”

“Jesse?! Jesse!”

But Jesse was long gone, even before she made it out of his line of sight. Already refusing to listen to him, she climbs the stairs with heavy stomps, and shuts the door to her room with a loud **_BANG!_ **

Lukas was left alone at the stair landing. All he can do is sigh dramatically and return to the living room to wallow.

* * *

He knows that this isn’t real. It’s a figment of his imagination, an over-exaggeration of moments happening in a matter of minutes.

It’s not a drama. It’s not some stupid, angsty teen fic. It’s real life. It’s real life he squashed together into a ball of moldy clay, to be some sort of obnoxious caricature of the original.

Jesse didn’t scream, Jesse barely ever screams. She couldn’t, she barely even devotes any energy to _standing_. If she’s yelling, she’s already reduced to tears and incoherent babbling 5 seconds in. Perhaps she did slam the door shut, but she wasn’t screaming at him right before it.

She was just… crying.

He wonders - as he recalls the sight of her wiping her tears away, always running up to her room as she starts - if she hates crying.

He slips the note down at the sides of his notebook and closes it without another glance.

(When they meet again upstairs, she's opening the door to Aiden's room; her tablet and signature stuffed bunny in her arms, and her eyes red from crying. For the briefest of moments, their eyes lock. Then she turns and locks herself in his room.

Lukas sighs.

He's just glad she's confiding in _somebody_.)

* * *

Lukas wakes up the next morning to a message from Jesse, sent at 1:42 AM.

“If you’re reading this, I’m dead," it says. "I’ve been dead for a long time. I’ve died a thousand and one hundred times and I’ll continue to do so. I’m dead. Goodbye. I’m sorry. I’m dead.”

He bolted out of his bed, his room, in a cold sweat.

Everybody seemed to act normal. And why wouldn’t they? It’s not like anything was out of the ordinary. It’s a regular Sunday. No plans, it’s a weekend. Olivia’s either working in the den with Maya, or annoying her brother, Aiden, in the kitchen. Petra’s lounging in the living room with her phone, Gill probably the same. Axel is hanging out with the turtles.

And Jesse’s still asleep in her room.

Nobody bothered to wake her up. Or maybe someone did, maybe Aiden, who knows. Everyone knows she sleeps at 6 and wakes up at 12. What’s the use?

It’s because she’s dead. She told him herself, right here in Messenger.

“I’m dead.”

She’s laying on her bed, fast asleep and deep in her own abyss. Her form rises and falls steadily, as if she wasn’t screaming and crying internally last night. Her switchblade is nowhere in sight.

Watching her sleep like this, Lukas sighs deeply, as if in resignation. He gives up. Turning away and gently closing her door, he decides what's for lunch is a better priority than whatever his disaster of a friend was up to at the hour.

It's 3PM when she talks to him again.

“Tell me one thing, Lukas,” she says to him through Messenger again. “Tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“Tell me I’m dead,” she begs him. When he looks up at her from the other side of the room, her face is completely blank, stoic as if bored and unaffected.

“Tell me I’m dead," she says again.

The words are like a greeting from Satan himself.

His fingers tremble. It’s hard for him to type, it’s a goddamn _struggle_. He can’t. He doesn’t want to, but he does.

He manages.

“You’re dead.”

It feels like a relief off his chest and another weight on his shoulders. It's painful.

He hears her scoff, a breath through the nose. She’s typing briefly, fingers speeding across the screen; then he hears a ping from his phone, and the next thing he knows, she’s lying down on the couch and falling asleep once more.

He looks down and reads the white words on the screen.

“Thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> like the desc said  
>  _ive had a string of really bad nights_
> 
> [related](http://fav.me/ddom21y)


End file.
